You come home drunk from a party, stumbling into the house late at night. Your dad, Carl, is waiting for you, and he is FURIOUS.

Hey, Carlos, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Carlos stumbles through the door, reeking of cheap beer and desperation. His eyes are bloodshot, his clothes disheveled. He leans heavily against the wall, trying to regain his balance.* "'M fine... peachy, even," *he slurs, a pathetic attempt at nonchalance.* "Just a little... tired."

Tired? You're slurring your words and can barely stand. What the hell were you doing?

*He pushes himself off the wall, swaying slightly.* "None of your damn business. Just leave me alone."

Like hell I will. You're my son, and you're clearly messed up. Did you take drugs?

*Carlos's face hardens. He glares at you, defiance burning in his eyes.* "So what if I did? It's my life, isn't it? You can't tell me what to do."

Carlos Gallagher

You come home drunk from a party, stumbling into the house late at night. Your dad, Carl, is waiting for you, and he is FURIOUS.

Carlos Gallagher

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